


Pull That Rider Down

by elricscousin



Category: Tam Lin (Traditional Ballad), The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Cannon Divergence, FaeQueen!Lukas, M/M, TamLin!Au, fuck elias, no beta we die like peter lukas, song lyric inspiration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-12
Updated: 2019-12-12
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:42:25
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21771181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elricscousin/pseuds/elricscousin
Summary: Hey, it's the Tam Lin!Au that is not medieval because I am a science grad student and wrote this to stop procrastinating on other writing I should be doing. Please be nice, this is the first time I've written any fanfiction in like, a decade. Comments/suggestions welcome!
Relationships: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan Sims
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	Pull That Rider Down

It was a Valentine’s Day party, of all things. At a bar. A bloody Valentine’s Day party at a bar with his work friends before they stopped the end of the world. Jon shook his head in disbelief that even after everything they had all just gone through, the rest of the archive crew would even consider inviting him, romantic interests non-withstanding. Even though the mood was “let’s all get hammered before some or all of us die,” it was…nice. It was nice to be trusted just a little bit again. As Jon lifted the plastic wine glass to his lips, he noticed that in one of the vases decorating the standing tables there was a strange-looking rose. Taking the initiative to excuse himself for a moment, he and his wine meandered over to the flower. “Huh,” he said, picking up the dual budded stem. “A double rose.” 

A somewhat drunk voice came beside him. “Why do you pull the rose, Janet, why do you break the wand?” he sang. 

Startled out of his reverie, Jon looked to see a smiling Martin, looking at the flower with a pint in his hand. “Sorry?” he said, confused. 

Martin pointed at the rose. “Tam Lin, Jon. Surely you’ve heard it before?” He raised an eyebrow at the Archivist (and also his boss, but he was drunk, so it’s fine, right?)   
Jon sneered a little to cover his tracks. “Of course I’ve heard of Tam Lin, Martin.” He set the rose back down and looked to face him straight on. “I’ve just never seen a double rose in the wild before, is all.” He smiled a little at Martin. Kind, compassionate, feisty, steadfast, beautiful Martin. His ginger hair seemed to be alit in the rosy lighting. His green eyes seemed endless forests. Jon took a shaky breath, feeling the blush rise in his cheeks. 

Martin tilted his head, searching Jon’s face. “J’n?” 

Jon made a decision. To hell with it. If he was going to die tomorrow trying to stop the Unknowing, then he was going to know what Martin’s lips felt like. He was going to know everything about the man who had stolen his heart with tea and cotts and sweaters. Jon put down his wine glass and pulled Martin into a dark corner, his lips pressed against the other man’s. Once he felt the wall against his back, he pulled away. “Is this all right?” he asked. 

Martin seemed to be in a bit of shock. He then wrapped a hand into Jon’s hair, pressed his forehead to the man against the wall’s, and breathed deeply. “Jon, you have no idea how long I have wanted you to do that.” He reached up and caressed Jon’s cheek with his hand, pulling Jon’s face closer to his to start another kiss. Jon’s arms wrapped up and around his back, feeling the warmth of Martin encase him against that wall. 

They stayed there for a long while. The rest of the archive crew had already bounced by the time that Jon realized the bar was shutting down. They extracted themselves from the wall, and left the premises hand in hand. They sat on the tube up until when Martin had to get off for his flat. With one last kiss, Jon said, “See you after everything.” 

Martin just smiled a happy, drunk smile, waved, and got off the tube. Little did he know that he would be seeing Jon, but Jon wouldn’t be seeing him.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
Six months is a long time to be in a coma by any measure. Two days is a short time to be in any sort of recovery, but Jon wasn’t exactly human anymore, was he. He craned his neck and looked at the Archives, knowing intrinsically that something had changed. The energy of the place. 

It had become lonely here. 

No more bi-hourly tea breaks with Martin. No more drinks with Melanie (but that had stopped a while ago now). No more Daisy trying to analyze his every move. No, it was a Lonely place full of mistrust and hard glares and guilt and work. So Jon decided to keep his head down and work on what was coming next. He has become good at that, lately. Making decisions and not caring if he gets hurt in the process, as long as something good can come out of it. Even if it makes him sick to his stomach that he is no longer human and has to take from humans to survive. 

But at night, late in the Archives after everyone has gone home, Jon thinks about that Valentine’s Day party. He thinks about Martin’s warmth encasing him, the soft but chapped skin of his lips. He thinks about the chill in the air that comes whenever he bumps into the besweatered Spector that seems to haunt the Archives now. How Martin’s voice is now just, “Leave me alone.” How he hasn’t seen Martin in…in months, really.   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He finds out about Eric Delano. He goes to Martin’s new office but doesn’t find him there. No, he only feels a dark cold setting in his bones, and he knows that something is wrong. He walks over to the desk and sits in Martin’s chair. He looks out to the hall and Knows about a small tape recorder snuck into the bookcase to the side of the door. He gets up, pulls it from the case, sets it on the desk to play. 

“Oh….I guess I didn’t notice you there.” Martin’s voice is soft, but a little annoyed. Obviously talking to the recorder. “I guess that means something spooky is happening, right? Something spooky is always happening here. “ A deep sigh. “I just….I want someone to know. What’s really happening…with me and Peter Lukas. I think…I think you’re an extension of the Archives, and therefore an extension of Jon…Hey Jon. I’m sorry I never got to tell you this in person. God, I treated you better in a coma than I did when you were alive again but….Anyway….” Another deep breath, a little shaky, as if he is fighting off tears. “The first thing you need to know is that I think about that night before the Uknowning sometimes. Less than when I wasn’t claimed by the Lonely, for sure, but sometimes it crosses my mind. To think that you would think of me in any sort of soft way. It gave me a lot of hope towards the beginning, you know? Like if I just love you hard enough, sent those feelings to you through your hands in the hospital, that you would wake up. But you didn’t. You didn’t Jon, and you were good as dead. And then Mum…..” A stronger breath. “That doesn’t matter now. All that matters is that someone needs to know that Peter Lukas is planning. He wants to perform another Lonely ritual since it’s been around seventy years since his family last attempted one. And I think I’m the linchpin. Someone touched so deeply by the Lonely and a little by the Eye. There are worse ways to die, I think. At least this way I will finally have some peace.” He clears his throat. “If anyone does find this and tries to come after me…Just know that the Lonely feeds on isolation, so I guess find a way to un-isolate them?” There is a long, pregnant pause. Then softly, “But who can un-isolate someone who started it in the first place.” 

The recorder shuts off abruptly. Jon races down to the basement tunnels of the Archives, to be met by a yellow door. 

“Helen!” he screams. “I need to save Martin!” 

“Ahhhhh….Archivist…..” comes the unnerving female voice of the long-fingered woman peaking back from behind the door. “I know where Lukas went with Martin….But if you go, you most certainly won’t escape…” 

“But I need to go! I don’t care how, but I will save him!” Jon continues down the tunnels, ignoring the hysterical laughter that clouds his ears. He dove into the tunnels, Martin’s message in one hand and his torch in the other. He plowed through the tunnels, reaching the Panopticon, feeling that done deep chill he had come to associate with the Lonely. He saw, staring up at the tower, the figure of Elia Bouchard, the man who had trapped him here, trapped all of them here, smiling. 

“Ah, Jon, good to see you have finally found me.” 

“Where is Martin?” The sound comes through gritted teeth. 

“Oh, you missed both of them. Their trail should still be here though. I will tell you, if you go into the Lonely, you won’t come back.” Elias’s voice was more than slightly menacing. “And that would be unfortunate.” 

“I don’t care.” Jon starts to Know the path. “You can’t make me do anything anymore, Elias.” There starts to be distant screams in the tunnels and the call of Not Sasha on the edges. [i]Fuck. Stay safe, everyone[/i], he thinks as he allows himself to be pulled into the mists. 

He is waiting and screaming for hours before he finally gets a glimpse of Martin’s shade. Jon calls out to him, trying to get his attention before Peter Lukas appears in the same form. 

“Quite interesting, watching you try to get to him. I’m afraid it’s too late, though. The Lonely has its grip deep.” He chuckles as Jon continues to sprint towards the man in the faded sweater. “You can’t save him, Archivist.” 

Jon put his arms around Martin, burying his face deep into the knit. Martin’s skill was cold as ice, his heartbeat slow and nearly not there. “No matter where you are, no matter what form you take, I’m here Martin. I know this place seems to be better, but it’s not! We need you….I need you.” He squeezed tight. 

“Jon?” said Martin, far away and with a resounding echo. “You can’t be here. Go back to the Archives. You’ll be safe there.” When Jon didn’t let go, Martin sighed. “I really did love you, you know.” The shade started to fade more into transparency. 

Suddenly, Martin’s form began to shift into that of Not Sasha. It and screamed but Jon held fast to the nightmare version of their friend. He knew that Martin, sweet, kind, amazing Martin, would never hurt him. 

“I see my challenge is too easy.” Peter Lukas sounded a bit annoyed at the Archivist’s resolve. He waved his hand and Martin’s shade began to shift again, this time into a giant bear, rabid and growling. 

In the insanity, Jon’s brain started to whisper words that he had thought about a very long time ago. He began to sing lowly, “They'll turn me to a bear sae grim, And then a lion bold, But hold me fast, and fear me not, And ye shall love your child.” 

Peter Lukas was angry now. “YOU. WILL. LET. HIM. GO!” 

Jon’s eyes were nearly blinded with the amount of light that assaulted them. The inferno seemed to blaze forever. Instead of letting god, Jon turned them both around, and help out his hand. 

“Tell me your story!” he screamed. 

“NO!” Martin’s temperature seemed to climb, but Jon felt no pain from it. “You will not take this from me, Archivist. He is mine!!” 

“TELL ME!” Jon’s static and the static of Peter Lukas battled for what seemed like hours. Finally, the power of Beholding won out, with Lukas falling to the ground, bleeding from his ears and eyes. 

Martin’s form returned to that of a man, crumpled on the sand. He was naked, and Jon took off his small jacket to offer him some modicum of decency (he knew that Martin would appreciate that). 

He continued holding the shade, saying, “Martin..Martin we’ve won. Martin, I need you to look at me. I know that you think it’s better here but you need to believe me and know that it’s not.” He pressed a small kiss to the top of Martin’s hair. The shade started to take on a bit more color, a bit more…substance. “Martin…Martin look at me and tell me what you see.” 

“I…..I see you..” The echo began to fade. “I see you, Jon.” Martin finally, with fully corporeal limbs, wrapped his arms around Jon. “I…I was so alone…” 

“Not anymore.” Jon started to stand, continuing to wrap Martin in his jacket as best he could. “Come on, let's go home?” 

“How?”

“Don’t worry…I know the way.” 

PS They found Martin’s clothes a little ways off, to which both men were very relieved.


End file.
